From Fire To Brimstone: Dally's Story
by calla lilly rose
Summary: Dallas was sent to fetch Ponyboy, but the reason was far different from what he expected it to be.


A/N: I do not own_ The Outsiders_. All rights to S.E. Hinton. Lines used from _The Outsiders _taken without permission. If arrested, someone please go feed my pets. Lots of cursing in this story. It is Dallas, afterall.

**From Fire To Brimstone: Dally's Story**

XXX

Damn IV. I looked up at it again, stupid bottle - mocking me with its steady drip drip drip. Bitch of a nurse told me I can't get up until that damn bottle was done dripping into my arm. Don't even look like nothing important, neither. Probably just water. I had to laugh at that, kept captive by a damned bottle of water dripping into my arm.

For the millionth time, I looked around for something to do. And once again, there _was_ nothing to do. Magazines lay on the table, but I'd already gone through those, adding a few decorative illustrations to the pictures with the pen I'd found in a drawer. I grinned, hoping those magazines didn't end up on the pediatrics floor by mistake. Then again, the little brats had to learn sometime, now didn't they?

Kids. I hated them. Nothing but trouble. They're loud, spill shit everywhere... and get themselves into scrapes they can't get out of.

Fuck. I had to go thinking about that. If those little brats hadn't gone in that church, none of this would be happening right now. I'd have convinced Johnny to stay put, maybe driven them over to my cousin's place for them to clean up a little, left them with the blankets and supplies I'd brought in Buck's trunk, and gotten back to Buck's by midnight.

Instead, Ponyboy just_ had _to go play the hero, running into a burning building to get the little brats out. Shit, that was the Sumo's job, since those kids were his responsibility anyway. Why would any person with a brain take little kids to an abandoned church for a school outing in the first place? Not that it mattered now, the damage was done.

Damage. I'd been asking all day how Johnny was, but my cunt of a nurse wouldn't tell me nothing. Even the doc, who'd stopped by to tell me to lay off the call bell and leave the staff alone, wouldn't tell me squat. The only word I'd had was from Tim, who'd come by earlier.

"Heard you're out of the action tonight, Winston."

"Looks like it."

"Pity, we're gonna need you."

"And to think, I never thought you'd admit it," I gloated.

"Nup. Ain't admitting nothing. But we're gonna need someone with some muscle. Brains, however... well, that ain't necessary. You'd fit the bill, if only you could break out of this joint."

I ignored the obvious sneer. "We down in numbers? I thought between you, Curtis and Brumly, we were set?"

"Brumly can't be trusted, you know that. They said they'd show, but if they break the rules, it could get ugly. Personally, I wouldn't have asked them if we weren't so desperate."

"Hey, we ain't desperate," I answered hotly. "We're gonna teach those son's of bitches to stay outta our territory, once and for all."

"Well, that's the goal, now ain't it," he mocked.

Silence stalled the conversation while he lit up, giving me a stick while sliding open the window. I hated silence, it left me time to think. I'd been trying to avoid that all day.

"Hey Tim, have you... I mean, did you... stop by..."

"The kid?" he asked, knowing what I was fishing for.

"Yeah man. How is he?"

Tim stared hard then shrugged. "Dunno. The door was closed and a nurse was with him. I couldn't do no more than stick my head in before getting turned away."

"You let_ that_ stop you?"

"Hey man, I ain't into getting tossed out of a hospital. You want anything?"

I shook my head. He flicked the butt out the window and left.

An hour later, Two-Bit and Ponyboy came over. Two-Bit's description of Johnny made my stomach crawl. I wondered if Tim had actually seen Johnny or was averting the issue. It pissed me off, knowing Johnny was just a few doors down yet miles from my reach.

Outside, the sky was starting to turn orange. The rumble would be starting soon. Enough of this bullshit. I looked up at the bottle, the drip drip drip continuing but looking like there was no progress in getting it gone at all. I refused to be held down any longer and grabbed the IV, yanking it out of my right arm – skin, tape, hair and some blood going along with it, making me swallow a yelp. I ignored the pain in both my arms as I pulled on my jeans and shirt that they'd left in a bag in the closet. Grabbing the switch, I sliced off the hospital bands from my wrists and finally walked out of my room. Strangely, no one paid me any attention.

Johnny's room was a floor up. I took the stairs, found his room and slid inside. The scene was worse than I'd imagined. I was shocked even more to see he was actually awake. He had to be in more pain than I could fathom.

"Hey," he mumbled softly.

"Hey kid," I answered, forcing myself forward. He was on some strange kind of bed that didn't have a mattress, instead had straps that held him down. His clothes were gone, a sheet covered his essentials. His chest and arms were covered with raw, blistered flesh that oozed pus and fluid. The stench was horrid, and I was glad I hadn't eaten.

"Heard... you're gonna... be... okay."

The weakness in his voice nearly broke me. I blinked hard, fighting it down.

"Yeah. You too. Hear me? You're gonna be just fine."

His face changed, the corners of his lips turned up a bit. I think he was laughing at me. "Liar."

"Alright, you little shit. So your scars will be tuffer than mine. I can deal with it."

I waited, but he didn't say anything for a moment. He just stared at the ceiling. Then, just as I stepped toward him, he turned his head an infinitesimal amount to look at me. His eyes were big, determined; and his breath hitched as he spoke.

"Find Pony... boy. I need... him... Dal. Please..."

I nodded. "I will, kid. I'll be right back. I promise, Johnny. Just don't..." I couldn't say it. I refused to say it. I fucking refused to even _think_ it. No! This was not happening! I turned and bolted for the door, running into my nurse as she came down the hall.

"There you are! Mr. Winston, you need …."

"Bitch, you touch me and you're the one who'll need doctoring. Now get out of my way." I demanded hotly as I started around her. She reached to grab my shoulder, but I flipped out the blade. By the way her eyes turned into saucers, I'd made myself understood. She backed off quick. "I said I was done."

I headed for the stairs and took them two or three at a time, then found Buck's T-Bird where the cop had said that teacher who had followed us all the way back from Windrixville had left it. I hoped in and headed for the Curtis place, hoping the kid would still be there. Maybe if Darry had any sense, he'd keep that little shit out of the fight completely.

The screen was closed but the main door open when I got there. "Ponyboy!" I yelled. No one was home. Damn it! I ran the whole way to the lot, noticing as I ran up how the face-off was beginning. As predicted, Darry was waiting for someone with enough balls to take him on. By the time I felt the grass under my feet, someone had. I had to get the kid out of there before it started.

"Hold up!" I yelled to stop them. "Hold it!" As soon as I yelled, the guy squaring off with Darry let off a right that started everyone swinging at each other. It was like stepping on an ant hill... everyone was attacking everyone and I had no choice but to get in there with them.

It wasn't hard to find the kid. I'd heard from word on the streets that every soc was coming over just to take a whack on him. Darry should have clued into that, as smart as he is.

"I thought you were in the hospital!" he screamed between taking hits.

"I was, I ain't now!" I shot back between blocks and hits and swings of my own. Damn, my arms hurt, but a fresh surge of adrenaline helped stave off the pain. Then I remembered Johnny... and the pain he had to be in.

"How?" the kid asked. What the hell? Was this a conversation or a rumble?

"Talked the nurse into it with Two-Bit's switch," I said between hits. "Don't you know a rumble ain't a rumble unless I'm in it?"

He didn't answer and I barely had a chance to see why. Seems the Soc's had zeroed in on him and were each taking swings. I couldn't do nothing about it, but Muscles_ did _seem to be paying _some_ attention, stepping over to hammer-hit one guy back a few feet. Didn't exactly matter - like flies on shit, there were always more.

We were rolling around, taking shots and slugging back, when the kid finally took a hit that really did some damage. I was too busy finishing off my guy to really keep tabs, but I saw the Soc swing his foot then the kid went limp, just like earlier when I'd slugged him at the church. Soda came outta nowhere, flying into the guy who'd used Ponyboy's head as a soccer ball, and easily took care of him. Not long after that, I looked around to see the Soc's leaving, the rumble over. We'd won.

I took a breath, then looked over and found him, still trying to get to his feet. I didn't wait to see if he was hurt. Johnny wanted him brought, and I was gonna bring him. "Come on! We're going to see Johnny!"

I sprinted the whole way back to his place and had to keep shoving the kid along. "Hurry, he was gettin' worse when I left. He wants to see you." Once at the car, he collapsed next to me in the seat and I nearly tore the gears out getting it going. I didn't get very far before being pulled over.

_Son - of - a - bitch!_ Red lights in the rear view mirror were all that stood between me and the hospital. I thought fast – Ponyboy already looked like he'd had the shit beat out of him anyway. The cop wanted to know what was up, and I gave the kid as an excuse. He bought it, even giving me a damned escort! The whole time I followed him, thoughts of what Johnny was going through, and _why _he was going through it kept bouncing around my head. The kid kept looking at me funny, like I wasn't making no sense, but he had to know that not everyone on this planet needed to be saved. There was only one worth saving, and he needed to know who that one was.

Yourself.

Once at the hospital, I shoved Ponyboy back through the throngs of people who got in my way, past staff who were barking orders that we needed to slow down. I think one threatened to call security, but I'd like to see the bitch do it. Pony followed along, saying nothing. Once back at Johnny's door... the doc stopped us.

"I'm sorry, boys, but he's dying."

Like hell he was. Not yet. He still has a life ahead of him! He's only sixteen Goddamned years old! He ain't got no police record! He's still got a chance! "We gotta see him," I said, pulling out Two-Bit's blade for emphasis. "We're gonna see him and if you give me any static you'll end up on your own operatin' table."

The doc relented. I despised his look of pity. Inside the room, Johnny had paled considerably. Why weren't they doing nothing? Why weren't they giving him none of that damned water they had dripping into me for a fucking day? "Johnnycake? Johnny?"

Johnny's eyes slitted. "Hey."

I told him about the rumble, but he didn't seem to care. It scared me, and nothing scares me. I_ needed_ him to care. I needed him to know _we_ cared. He couldn't do this. Not_ this!_ Not Johnny. Not to us. "We're all real proud of you, buddy." His eyes became huge pools of black and his face relaxed. But then he only wanted one thing, and it had nothing to do with me, or the rumble, or anything else.

"Ponyboy."

I looked over as an almost unrecognizable Ponyboy limped closer then leaned down to hear the faint words Johnny'd said. Just as he finished whispering his message, I could tell Johnny's life was over. He didn't move, didn't speak. His eyes were open, but they weren't filled with pain, or sadness, or even fear. They were just blank.

It doubled back on me, hitting me again and again. Johnny was dead. The kid – the only God forsaken person I'd tried to protect, was dead. I jerked back, away from this. I didn't want to see it. "Oh, damnit, Johnny, don't die, please don't die!" I slammed my fist into the wall, demanding Johnny not do this. But, he did.

I looked again, unsure that this was real. Ponyboy just stood there, a statue. Then I was pissed. Fuming even. Some big damn help you were! Johnny's life was over, and his last words weren't to me. I was just a damned servant … fetching the kid to hear a message. _No, damn it! No! Don't die! Not yet!_ I begged – hating myself for it, but doing it anyway.

I left the room, aware but not caring that the doc saw me, the nurse saw me, that everyone saw me. What did it matter? Johnny was dead! Nothing mattered anymore.

I had to find someplace where it mattered. I had to find someway to _make_ it matter.

But I also had to find a way to make it _not_ matter _to me_. I had to kill this pain... as I'd never be able to live with it if I didn't. As I shoved the car into fifth again, the console between the seats popped open. The heater I'd been carrying still inside. I didn't have no bullets, but that wouldn't matter. I wouldn't need them anyway. The answer was simple, the execution harder; but I knew what to do. I felt the textured grip, the curve of the trigger.

If death wouldn't matter to him, then it wouldn't matter to me either.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

This is my first attempt to do a Dallas centered story. I really hope I have his character and voice down. Thanks for whatever reviews you may have.


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